Author Note:
This is my adult version of the Fairy Tale: Hansel and Gretel. There are references to BDSM play. There is a small bit of Lesbian interaction, as well as non-consent/reluctance, as well as Brother/Sister incest. If you do not wish to read any of those things, then this story may not be for you. If you choose to read it, I do hope you enjoy it. Thanks to deathlynx for catching some errors I made, if you see more, blame me. . .not him. ~ Red
Petra stared at the way Gretel walked back and forth as she took the laundry from the line and placed it neatly folded in the basket. Her body moved with the grace that Petra's lacked. Her hair seemed to glow as the sun cast its rays on the top of her head and where Petra was once embraced in a halo of gold . . . her hair was washed out and faded with time. No longer did the wife and mother of two have her beauty; in its place, time, greed, and hate had taken its toll, leaving her desperate to recapture her youth. She knew that to do that she had to have money. Money meant everything and the hag in the woods had promised her a potion that would make her more stunning than any other, even her daughter.
Laughter interrupted Petra's thoughts and she rose up to greet her husband and her son. "Well?" Her greeting common whenever the two men returned home, after having spent the day in the mines toiling for what few coins, they could get the local Lord to pay them. Her aged and weathered hand was open, her arm outstretched and the look on her face demanding.
Hansel glanced at his sister. He had wanted to see her first before seeing their mother. Why he thought this day would be any different was lost to him. He reached into his pocket and tried to push the ribbon away as he fished out the coins. "Here, mother. It isn't much, but . . ."
"It never is," she hissed as her fingers wrapped around the coins and she dropped them into her apron. Her gaze shifted to her husband and then quickly slid back to her son's pocket. "What is that?" Her speed was quick for her age. She plucked the strip of blue ribbon that had come sneaking out when Hansel had dipped in for the coin. Petra twirled it around her finger and glared at Hansel. "Where did you get this?" Her voice seemed to grow stronger as she forced her back to become ramrod straight.
Hansel watched her shake the ribbon in his face and he reached for it, only to be stilled by his father's hand. "Petra, it is but a ribbon." Klaus answered, taking the ribbon from his wife's clenched fist and giving it back to his son. "Hansel bought it for Gretel. It was not much and it is her birthday."
He looked over to his daughter and smiled warmly, before pushing his hand into his pocket and taking the coins from their depth. He dropped them into her hand, which he still held and then wrapped her fingers around them. "I made extra, so what Hansel used does not cause anyone harm. We will eat well this month."
His green eyes were full of hope, hope that his wife would not raise a fuss over the coin, but would instead remember the joy they had experienced eighteen years ago when Gretel was born. Klaus knew though that only he had celebrated that day. Petra had never wanted either of their children and after she'd given him one of each, she refused to share his bed.
"Does us no harm?!" she screeched as she spun on her heel and walked a few feet away. Her finger lifted to her daughter and she screamed back at all of them. "Every day these THINGS eat more and more. Look at her. She is bigger than the Lord's finest beef and him," she pointed to Hansel, who was a tall and lanky man with thick blonde hair and icy blue eyes, "he is just as bad. The King's horses are not as robust as this monster."
Gretel blinked back the tears that sprang from her eyes, paler blue than her brother's. She smoothed her dress down, feeling the ribs that poked through her clothing. Her hands were clasped in front of her flat stomach, a small indent showing where the lack of food during the day had begun to take its toll. Her body had never developed fully. Her mother not allowing her to eat while the men were gone, nor was she allowed to tell her brother or her father that she had been denied the portions her mother took as her own.
Hansel felt his anger rising and only the appealing look from Gretel stopped him from shouting at his mother. He walked over and gave her the ribbon, doing his best to ignore the woman that had given birth to him. His fingers brushed against Gretel's thick yellow lashes, that were speckled with the unshed tears. "If you are as fat as the Lord's beef, then our Lord is in dire need of new pastures." His whispered words went unheard by anyone but his sister. He bent down and kissed her forehead before having her spin around, so he could tie the ribbon in her long blonde hair.
"Thank you," Gretel whispered. Her fingers toyed with the soft end of ribbon, not caring that it was frayed at the ends. "It is beautiful."
"Happy Birthday," Hansel told her, giving her a wink, which meant he had more in store for her, but she would have to wait.
"Come, Hansel; let us chop wood. Though winter is a long way off, our chores are always close by." Klaus's call pulled Hansel from Gretel's side and soon they were gone again, this time each pushing a makeshift cart into the forest, which they would fill with lumber. Gretel glanced at her mother, but said nothing as she returned to her chores.
That night Petra lay in her bed, thinking of ways to rid herself of the two diseases that she'd given birth to. She knew the Lord had tastes that bordered on sinful. Rumor said that he paid good coins for both beauty and innocence. As much as Petra hated to admit it, Gretel had both. She was thinner than the Lord may want, but Petra could fix that. A wicked smile crossed her face as she began to turn the bolts and screwed in her head and think of how Gretel could be changed into a magnificent creature that would fill Petra's coffers.
Once she dealt with the girl, she would rid herself of her son. Each day she looked at him became another where she was reminded of the folly of her youth, when she gave her body to a man, because he was as beautiful as she was and she thought it would better herself. Now that man was old, worn, and tired . . . but worse, after she married him she had been told they would leave her village and live in his cottage in the woods. She would be a wife and he would continue to mine for his Liege Lord. Petra knew deep down it was her fault she had bedded the man she had thought the magistrate's son.
There had been a village masquerade party and she had set her sights on the gentleman that paraded around as if he were the most arrogant of men, which was exactly how the magistrate's son behaved. In her lust for social status among her lowly peers she had willingly lifted her skirts and allowed the masked gentleman to have his way with her several times over the course of a few hours. When they were discovered, Klaus removed his mask and declared her his. They were wed within an hour of her parents learning of her shame and then she was shuttled off to live in a cottage that was falling to pieces before her very eyes. That first year she gave birth to a son and then Gretel.
Petra beat on her pillow, once more cursing her life, but at least this time, when she closed her eyes, she had a plan and tomorrow she would take the first steps to see it come to life.
The following morning Gretel opened her eyes to the blazing sun that beat through the worn curtains of her room. She shot out of bed, frantically grabbing her robe and pulling her hair into the ribbon her brother had given her. Her pulse raced as she imagined the beating she would receive when her mother realized she'd overslept and none of the morning wash had been done, nor had the animals been cared for. Gretel darted out of her room, then came to a halt. She took a deep breath and inhaled the aroma of fresh bread and pork. Her brow furrowed as she timidly walked into the kitchen.
It was a blessing Gretel had a good constitution or she would have clutched her heart from the shock of seeing her mother, donned in an apron, bending over the oven and pulling bread from its iron home. She blinked and counted to ten, but still the image remained. "Mother." Her whisper was softer than any other word she'd ever spoken and she found her feet rooted to the floor.
Petra grinned a wicked smile that only the bread could see. She then turned and her expression softened, yet the smile remained. "Come, girl. Your brother and father will be home for lunch and you have not yet broke your fast." Petra motioned to the bowl on the table. A cloth lay over its contents, but steam still rose from behind its hidden cover. Petra watched Gretel as she cautiously walked over to the piping hot oats. It was the fifth bowl of mush she'd created, hoping that her lazy daughter would awaken with the smells of each one, but instead she tossed the cold lumps of oats out the door and forced herself to create another fresh one every half hour. "Eat up. I have the animals fed, and the cow milked, but I'll need help with the wash. I am not as young as I used to be."
Petra left the room with a piping hot pan, that Gretel could have sworn smelled like apple pie. She lifted the cloth from the bowl and gazed at the thick, creamy meal. Her fingers tenderly gripped the wooden spoon and she stirred the steamy confection of jam her mother had placed on top. Gretel feared eating it. Her mother had to have poisoned it, she told herself. What was happening? What had happened? Gretel pinched her arm and winced. Only then, did she accept she was not trapped in a dream of her starved mind's making.
"Eat up, child. We'll lose the sun at the pace you're going."
Gretel heard her mother and quickly began to eat the food before her. Her stomach cramped in the beginning, so unused to feeling anything of sustenance until almost dark. After she forced herself to slow down, her body accepted the surprising shock and allowed her to finish her mush as well as the cold milk her mother had put out before her.
Gretel's day continued to be one out of a fairy tale book. Her mother was possessed, she decided as she was pulled away from the mending to help serve a mid-afternoon meal that had been prepared for her father and brother. Just as it was finishing, Gretel felt Hansel kick her leg. The action, went unnoticed by both Klaus and Petra. Gretel glared at him, but she knew that it was his way of saying he needed to talk to her before he left. After she finished her slice of pie, Gretel moved to begin clearing off the table. Her mother however stopped her, telling her she should rest because her eyes looked tired and her cheeks sunk in.
Gretel shook her head in disbelief. Her eyes always looked tired and her cheeks had never been full of anything but the cuts and bruises that she'd endured over the years from her mother's swift hand. She eyed Hansel as she left the room, and she felt both his eyes as well as her father's on her.
It wasn't long before Hansel tapped on her bedroom door and she opened it just enough for him to slip inside. "What is going on?!" she demanded, crossing her arms and glaring back at him.
Hansel's eyes grew wide. "I don't know. She woke father this morning and told him that we were to be home this afternoon for lunch, because it was rude of him to forget your birthday."
